


Cats, Gangs and Leaders

by samasim



Category: Top Cat, Top Cat (Cartoon)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gang Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2020-07-25 12:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samasim/pseuds/samasim
Summary: A terrible crime results in the gang losing a member, and Officer Dibble learns soon enough how seriously Top Cat takes his role as leader.





	1. Sickness Comes in Many Forms

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: After a LONG time, I finally decided to slowly move this fanfiction to AO3. There are practically no Top Cat stories here so I thought hey, maybe if people see my fanfic they'll be encouraged to share their own and I'll finally have a story to read.
> 
> I began this fanfic back in 2012. I update very slowly, but the story is already nearing its end. My writing has improved those past few years so I hope you can put up with the slower chapters in the beginning. 
> 
> Re-iterating from my old author's note on FF dot net, T.C is one of my favorite cartoons from my childhood and it's still funny and charming today. This story's quite darker than the original show, but I strive to keep the characters relatable and familiar.

For a while, it was the talk of the neighborhood; how Spook's parents were hunted down and killed in cold blood.

Very few knew what really happened, and if one ignored the wild rumors, and turned a deaf ear to the stories tossed around by gossiping neighbors, they'd see that the real events underneath were so bare-boned it made the tragedy all the crueler. Reasons are usually so simple yet so powerful.

It was like one of those old TV crime series. Spook owed a shady character some doe. He couldn't gather the money fast enough, and the deadline passed. The gangster thought Spook was feigning stupidity. He brought his boys into the equation. How do they punish the little wise guy for not paying up?

Make Mom and Dad pay it for him instead. Parents must be there for their kids, right?

The murder of Spook's parents affected the laid-back beatnik more than anyone could have imagined.

Avenging his poor parents became all he could think about. All he could talk about. The schemes, the games, the beat clubs, the nights out had no meaning anymore, not when all he could see in his mind were his parents' miserably battered bodies.

Not even his best friends in the world could snap him out of his hateful obsession. He couldn't remember Top Cat ever being so adamant to make him do something. His leader had tried everything to steer him off the vengeance road. Had Spook been in his right mind – had this not been about his own Ma and Pops, he would have listened. He had never doubted Top Cat.

Top Cat always knew what to do, what to say, and how to turn the Stupid Switch off. Had Spook been in his right mind, he would have been touched by his boss's protectiveness.

Only once he killed the miserable creature that had tortured his parents could he consider going back to his old life (which now seemed unreal, and so far away) amongst the gang. But until that day came, he did not owe Top Cat any kind of obedience.

Not because he was ungrateful…but because Top Cat was not his leader anymore.

In a strange twist of fate, he had found himself the newest member in a sinister gang of dangerous cats. But, he learned all too quickly that this gang was no friendship ring.

Their leader was a cold-blooded killer.

Secretive, never doing a job himself, but rather moving his subjects like a chess player, he had expressed an interest in the green-pelted feline as soon as the story had reached him. He had extended an invitation, welcoming the alley cat into his ranks, saying that they had a lot in common; that the enemy of your enemy was a friend.

G.P., as he was known on the streets and amongst all cats, happened to want the leader whose henchman had killed Spook's parents dead. Their goal – as he called it – was the same.

And so Spook, in the heat of the moment, had joined the network.

It was not lost on Spook, as rationality slowly started coming back to him, that G.P. was an even nastier individual than the rumors portrayed. It became apparent very quickly to the grieving cat that if he wanted to protect his old friends, he would have to sever ties with them - disappear completely from their lives. G.P. had never taken in Spook out of sympathy. In fact, he hardly cared if this particular cat could even help with the termination of Old Fast Paw and his band of clowns. He had an eye on something else - something much more important.

Spook was merely a pot of information on another influential cat in the city: Top Cat.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

No one danced the line quite like Top Cat. He was no hardcore criminal, but he was infamous for his connections and talent for getting his way. Charm and quick wit were his weapons; connections and friends were his reap, all the while managing to stay just half a step ahead of the NYPD.

When you live on the streets, life becomes one big network of owing and being owed. It doesn't matter whether you're chums of not; it's just the way the boat sails.

Through friends, or mere acquaintances in his debt, Top Cat managed to always get a sketchy idea of the general whereabouts of his missing gang member, for Spook had kept his stupid promise, and vanished from their lives.

Things dragged on like that for nearly three months…until Top Cat got very sick.

It was no gag – not that time it wasn't. The shocking reality of T.C. being genuinely ill alarmed everyone who knew him, most of all Officer Charlie Dibble. Top Cat rarely succumbed to or allowed display of any form of weakness. The doctors could not find anything wrong with him. The only explanation they could come up with was 'depression'.

_Depression_.

That one word scared Dibble more than if they had said typhoid, or the black plague. Top Cat never let anything get to him. The thought of him depressed was more depressing than anything the cop could think of.

Having a soft spot for that delinquent and his bunch made his job so…_impossible_, sometimes.

Dibble had known Top Cat and the others for years. He'd heard the terrible news about Spook, and being the soft-touch he actually was underneath the tough-cop exterior, he worried for the disappeared cat. He worried for Top Cat himself even more.

He had tried more times than he could count to ask where Spook had disappeared so suddenly, but Top Cat would not say. It wasn't apparent at first, but as the days went, even the blind could see that something was wrong with the yellow-pelted feline's peace of mind. Then his sudden descent into sickness confirmed everyone's concerns.

Dibble hated that he was starting to get scared. Top Cat was not ripping anybody off. He was barely eating, and it showed in his thin, tired frame. And he was still not talking. No matter how hard Dibble tried to tell himself that it was _not_ his business, that T.C. was adult enough to take care of himself, he could not ignore it. Paranoid scenarios started filling his head, and it is exactly at times like that that the brain decides to retrieve its oddest, most buried memories, as if to ensure there would be no rest.

It was a strange thing to remember; Dibble had not thought about his mother's neighbor for many years. She had long since passed on. He remembered Mrs. Sherm, the old widow who used to live in the apartment three stories above his old childhood home, and how she would often visit his mother to escape her own loneliness. She was a nice old lady, but she talked too much.

Whenever she came around, she would bring a full plate of her homemade cookies and those were about the only reason he - a young boy of 9 at the time would tolerate sitting with the two women in the living room for more than ten minutes. She always had stories to tell, but nothing he would care to listen to or remember. That is, until his mind decided to retrieve Mrs. Sherm's resentment of her cats, who – she had said – left home one night and never came back. Not a goodbye and not a thank you. Just like that.

He had not understood then, and he still did not understand. The fact that something in this world was causing T.C. of all persons to finally slip filled him with an angry protectiveness he wasn't sure he knew where it had come from. He was angry at Spook; angry at whatever it is the cat had done to make his friends go through this. Angry that he just up and _left_.

He was angry at himself, for feeling useless, for being unable to do his job. But what could he do? Top Cat wouldn't say anything, and his gang loyally followed suit on the code of silence.

It scared Dibble more than he would admit – the idea of coming to the alley one day to find T.C. gone, just like Spook.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

It was Tony who made Top Cat a little better.

The kindly middle-aged man strolled through the alley one afternoon while Dibble was trying to provoke any kind of response from an uncaring T.C.

Dibble turned to Tony helplessly, and the man nodded in understanding.

"Top Caa', folks are sayin' you haven' been feelin' okay for a while.."

Dibble knew Top Cat liked Tony very much, though he wasn't really sure why. But boy, was he glad for it.

The cat looked around at Tony and his face lit up a bit. "Tony, my good man! Finally out, eh? Now tell me; what was so interestin' in that tincan apartment of yours that kept ya two weeks away from the world? Probation? What were ya up to without us?"

Tony laughed. "I was sick, too. I never got cheecken pox when I was a leetle boy," he explained with a grin. "I'm all okay now, and I know just the ting te perk ye up, amico!"

And he snatched T.C. up in his arms like a house pet (Top Cat's face was _mortified_) and started walking away, not heeding Top Cat's wriggling in the slightest. Dibble stood staring after them, and T.C.'s four feline dependents glanced at each other before trotting off after the man.

"He-ey! Tony, are ya **nuts**?! Put me down!"

"I take you to Mama an' Pappa in ole country!" they heard the man say happily.

"Put me _down_ Tony! I'm not goin' anywhere!"

"Come on, you goin' to like my parents! Dey always wanted to look at shou!"

"Look at me? Whaddya mean, _look at me_? Did ya tell 'im ya saw me in a zoo?!"

"Stop feedgeting so you won' fall!"

"I said lemme _go_! Who's gonna take care of the boys?"

"Wha' boys?"

"_My_ boys, the gang! Those guys can't feed themselves if the food danced naked in front of 'em!"

"True, sir," Choo-Choo nodded vigorously.

"Can we all come to Italy with ya, Mr. Tony?" Benny begged. The four cats looked up at him with big eyes.

Tony beamed. "Family home would be alive again after many years! Old Mama would cry tears of joy...her boy brings friends home! And Papa would make you help him with de farm!"

"Oh boy! Wait…we're gonna hafta work..?"

"Thanks, Mr. Tony we'd _love_ to!"

"_No we wouldn't,_ Benny! Have you all _flipped_?"

"Uh-uh, T.C, you're being very un-democratic." Choo-Choo pointed out.

"Choo-Choo-!"

"Pack our suitcase, will ya Brain?" Fancy interrupted loudly, looking over his shoulder at their young friend.

"Duuh, one suitcase comin' up!" and said cat was gone in a whirl of orange.

Dibble did not see Tony or the cats for four weeks. He hoped they were having fun, and he hoped T.C. was getting better. For though he loathed admitting it, his job did get lonely without them.


	2. Choo-Choo's (Suicidal) Act

Under the pitch-black moonless sky, a cat slinked noiselessly through the dark, narrow alleyways.

Dark green eyes flicked left and right, and upon making sure he was not followed, Spook squeezed through the unused gutter pipe concealed behind a large, rusting dumpster. He went down on his paws and feet, and slithered through. His fur mopped against the damp, dirty aluminum, sending a shudder down his spine. The pipe twisted downwards into the belly of the ground.

He came out on the other end, and shook his pelt. He straightened up and took in the now-familiar surroundings of the large, abandoned complex.

Several other people were there. A few heads turned, and he was sure he heard snickering - most probably at him. A duo of familiar cats tried to catch his eye – one of them thought it funny to send a vulgar signal his way. It was so commonplace Spook did not even need to make the effort to ignore them. He stopped seeing them to begin with. He was the outcast; he never fitted into this sinister world, anyway. A world of drugs, hitmen, and inglorious thievery.

This craphole was _never_ going to be his home.

He could never cut himself off from his old life completely, either. He always went back – for only a few moments lest he be discovered, just to see how his old friends were faring. How terrified he had been, when he went back a couple of weeks earlier and didn't find them in the alley, or in any of the spots they usually hung at.

His first thought had been, _Oh God G.P. did something to them._

He had then run to the home of one of his friends from the cha-cha classes. It was the first time they had seen each other in months. His screaming, over-emotional pal had told him they were out of the country – in Italy of all places, in some sort of a healing trip.

_"Had ta be –! I heard Top Cat was very sick! Can ya believe it, pops? _ **The** _ Top Cat!"_

Spook had wrestled himself out of his friend's overzealous clutches (and flatly refused to put any food or drink in his mouth), and ran out before the neighbors started getting too curious about Besty's excited screaming. He had returned to this place, relieved beyond words, but just as lonely.

Lost in his memories, he walked through the vast wall-less space without a glance to a single soul. Everyone was a ghost, there but not really. He only snapped back to reality when the sensitive pads on his feet felt the shock waves - the remnants of an electric shocker still in the air. They came from the basement below, the same basement affectionately called the _Chokey Room_ by Monster, G.P's right-hand man.

Someone must be having the time of his life down there, where he was going right now. He strode on, swallowing the lump of self-hatred in his throat. He scratched absently at his right ear. The bandage was getting torn and thready at the edges – he wouldd have to replace it soon.

He made his way to the far back, and turned around a mud brick wall, ignoring the female nincats lounging about near the clunky-looking elevator. He knew better than to engage G.P's nincats; spies and assassins of the highest degree.

Down the smelly elevator went. It stopped at the basement with a shudder, and its only occupant stepped out into the darkened hallway that led to the door of the Chokey Room, left ajar. Spook did not have to be a genius to know someone was hanging from the ceiling even before he reached the door – the shadows cast by the lightbulb out onto the hallway walls told a story. He stepped into the room, but could not bring himself to immediately look and see who the poor soul was.

"Ya here." a deep voice greeted.

"What did you expect?" replied Spook flatly. He turned to look at his superior, and G.P's most trusted friend.

Monster was an enormous cat that lived up to his alias, with short, curly red fur and brown irises that always shone with a dark humor from under his olive-green bowler hat.

Spook could no longer put off looking at the victim hanging by the arms from the ceiling, not when the shadows of his limp form surrounded him from every side and every wall, trapping him inside his own mind that was filled with self-loathing and regret for ever becoming a part of this world. He turned he head around to look up at the poor guy, and his stomach dropped down a bottomless pit.

"_Ch..Choo-Choo_…"

"No," his superior drawled. "Now he is Girly. We decided it fit 'im better, after his priceless attempt ta fight. See there."

Spook stared in horror at Choo-Choo's paws. The blood had long-dried and turned brown, stuck to his fur like chipped paint. He was unconscious, yet his claws were still out, a few missing.

"Monster.._what is the meaning of this_?" the green cat demanded, his voice hoarse with terror and disbelief.

"Watch it, Spooky. Girly here woulda died had I let Saber have his fun. I spared 'im. You _owe_ me. Again."

"Why is he here-?"

"Your pal Saber _brought_ him in."

Spook had to fight down the urge to gag on his own tongue. Monster grinned knowingly. He knew full well the effect Saber had on the green cat.

There was something about Saber that absolutely revolted Spook. He was a wild animal – stupid, bloodthirsty and vicious, with his dirty yellow fur, narrow red-rimmed eyes and canines true to his alias. Spook had even heard a rumor that he was a cannibal, and he had asked Monster about it, but the large cat never gave him a straight answer.

Despite Saber's appalling nature, Spook found that he was not particularly afraid of him – revolted beyond words, but not _afraid_. Saber was the typical henchman, strong and fast but no brains of his own.

Monster was an entirely different story. Monster scared Spook more than he could dare show.

"He came ta Saber this morning, askin' to join the ranks," the large cat spoke in his calm, deliberate manner. "How naive can ya get? Ya don't just _ask_ Saber for anythin', not if ya wanna live to the next morning after his 'endurance tests'. If this kit were serious, he shoulda come ta _me_. But we both know he ain't really here ta serve G.P., don' we Spook?"

Spook just stared back at his 'superior', speechless. Monster was not G.P.'s closest confidante for nothing; he was brawns _and_ brains.

And sometimes, Spook was sure he could read minds.

"I keep on reminding ya; if it weren't for me, you'd be far worse off than simply havin' that torn ear. You'd be six feet unda."

How could Spook forget? The memory of how he got his ear half-cut off had not left him, but he knew he would rather have lost his whole ear than G.P. _killing_-

"Where has Spooky gone?" Monster called in a sing-song voice, "Earth to Spooky!"

Spook shoved away the unpleasant memory and forced his face into a calm mask of indifference. But it was impossible. One of his best friends was hanging right there a few feet away. If it weren't for Choo-Choo's shallow, wheezy breaths, indicating that he was still very much alive, Spook didn't think he would have been able to control himself. "Monster, like…just – just tell me why he's here."

"Why do ya care?"

"Wh..."

"Careful, Spooky."

"Like, I don't want 'em involved, dad." Spook chose his words carefully, "It'll cause more problems for me with the boss than I can handle, man. And problems with my last gang, too. They'll be back for blood if he dies."

"Scared of them, or scared _for_ them, Spook?" asked Monster with gleaming eyes.

"Don' insult me. I just don't have the time to put up with 'em. I wanna like, focus on what I'm supposed to do. So can we just get him down and leave him somewhere where they'll find him? Like, _alive_?"

Monster shrugged, "I don' care. You do it. And when you've left 'im somewhere, make sure you're in front of the Boss by 12. He's assignin' ya."

Spook thought he was doing terrific, pretending his face was a slab of expressionless wood. He then attempted to arrange his face to look mildly curious for some semblance of believability, when his insides were roiling with revulsion at the thought of meeting the slimebag killer again in just two days. Let the milking begin. The bastard probably wants to try getting information on Top Cat again, or mentally torture him with that...fun little reunion more than a month ago.

But more than all that...Spook hated looking at G.P.

"You're a very bad actor, Spooky."

The green cat's head snapped up.

"Even pampered-Beverley-poochie Tinkerbell can see you're...let's say, a little queasy at meetin' with the Boss?" the wide-toothed grin was really asking to be punched, but Spook knew it would be like punching a brick wall.

"That little inspiring speech about your friends, too...don' try it with 'im. He reads people much better than I do, and he's got ya on his radar since that...clever little act of courage."

"What do you want from me, man?" snapped Spook angrily, a little fearful.

"Nothing. Just telling ya you don't fool no one. I know you're still feeling for your old gang. I'll keep quiet about it, just because I don' want to be anywhere close when the Boss decides he hasn't freaked out in a while. Not that _he's_ blind to it either," the cat looked Spook in the eye, "Just stop with the dumb act of nonchalance, it's pissin' everyone off. And get your friend down and throw 'im somewhere, it's fifteen to ten.

"Remember, 12 sharp Spooky. And I'll be waitin' right here."


	3. Chapter 3

Dibble stood in the cool afternoon shade underneath the valance of Shultz's Delicatessen. He surveyed the hustling and bustling of citizens running home to and from work, only stopping for brief, friendly greeting and a quick something to eat on the way.

Constant life, constant noise...a city is no city without that spirit, and there was no city like New York. Dibble could not think of a place greater than this one, the place he'd lived all his life and called home.

But he was also a policeman, and policemen were trained to notice peculiar things at home others might miss. It was easy to miss a face amongst the hundreds of fast-moving citizens, but Dibble was an expert on picking out certain individuals.

A large group of chatty students walked by, and when the last of them had moved out of the cop's vision, he saw Benny the Ball standing on the other side of the road.

He looked so small amidst the bustling humans, cats and dogs around him, standing still on the other sidewalk. His face was anxious, and practically begging for Dibble to take pity on him and call him over.

"Get over here, Benny. You're in the way."

Something akin to hope came through in the chubby cat's eyes, and he quickly came over.

"Ya wanted to talk to me?" asked the officer.

Benny found it the opportune time to study his feet, but Dibble saw the nervous little nod. The officer put a reassuring hand on the cat's shoulder. "Come on. Schultzie's got a fresh batch of cocoa beans today, and it's gettin' chilly. My treat."

With that, he stirred his nervous companion into the quaint coffee shop.

**oOoOoOoOoOo **

"Tell me what happened, Benny. Here."

The blue cat looked forlornly at the hot mug pushed into his paws. He did not feel like putting anything in his mouth right then. The hesitant silence felt like a lifetime. Dibble was about to ask again - a tad impatiently, when Benny started in a quiet voice: "Don't tell T.C. I talked to ya, okay?"

"Of course, Benny. If that's what ya want." Now he was really interested. And concerned.

The next moment, words tumbled put of Benny's mouth so fast Dibble's mind was scrambling across the floor to get the whole picture. Benny looked and sounded like he was dying to tell someone, anyone, what his leader's been going through.

"Ever since Spook..left with those - those _killers_, T.C.'s been tryin' everything to get 'im back," Benny began in a desperate monologue. "He tried ta guilt Spook inta leavin' 'em and comin' back to us. When that didn' work, he tried ta trick Spook inta leavin' them. It didn' work. So he tried ta trick G.P.'s gang members inta abandonin' Spook without hurtin' 'im. When that didn' work..he tried ta reason with Spook. When it didn' work, he threatened 'im. When it still didn' work...he started ta plead with 'im. When nothing at all worked, he got sick..!"

"Hold up a second! What's this about killers? What's Spook gotta do with killers?!"

"He ain't gonna lay it until the guy who killed his folks is dead," whispered Benny. "G.P., whose as evil as evil guys come, wants that same guy's boss dead, so Spook thought he could work it in his favor; work for G.P. for a bit, get rid of the guy, and just leave. You don't just leave G.P like ya have a choice.

"I've known Top Cat all my life, sir! He doesn't take things like that lightly. He's always taken care of us- now he's worried himself sick and he won' let us help 'im. He's scared. He knows he can't handle those criminals alone, but he'll never ask for police help either!" Benny's small blue eyes were brimming with tears.

"Benny…you guys never told me.."

But Benny was not finished. "Top Cat knows that gang leader. He knows how mean he is. He's capable of anything. T.C.'s afraid Spook might come to his senses when G.P. asks 'im somethin' horrible to do. If Spook says no.."

"Benny, why didn't ya say something sooner? Why didn't you guys _tell_ me?"

"Top Cat said he'll never trust a cop with somethin' like this-"

"Why won't he?" said Dibble in sudden anger – an unexpected, hot feeling of betrayal in his gut. Why did that cat never seem to appreciate the cop's watching out for them? He has let them off the hook more times than he knew was acceptable to his superiors. Should they know just how much, he'd be camping out on the pavement opposite the employment agency, he was sure. He was practically the cats' babysitter and occasional bread provider, always making sure Top Cat's (even Dibble had to admit - original) schemes never went too far for his own good.

"I dunno. He says cops don' understand street law if it bit 'em in the-"

"I get the message."

"H-he said..he said if the police ever get involved, they might hurt Spook!" Benny pushed the full mug onto the table, knowing his appetite would not be back for a while.

Dibble opened his mouth, ready to defend his comrades, but then closed it before a single word could escape. A feeling of dread and something akin to shame – a feeling of inadequacy – formed in the pit of his stomach. Just how bad was this 'G.P.' character? How come he knew absolutely nothing about him?

If Top Cat thinks the police – thinks that Dibble himself – would shoot his friend if they got involved...God.

He must be a real psychopath.

"Is this why Top Cat wouldn't tell me why we don't see Spook anymore?"

The cat nodded sadly. "He's gonna get sick again if we don't do somethin', Officer Dibble!"

Dibble never understood how on Earth a cute, innocent little guy like Benny and a conniving smart aleck like Top Cat were best friends. They were practically a living example of the Opposites Attract theory. Sometimes Dibble wondered if it was Benny's childlike persona that Top Cat found endearing. T.C. was not the most responsible individual, and he seemed to believe laws and regulations existed to decorate plain paper and keep the ink factories from shutting down.

But he had a protective streak, and no one knew it better than Dibble.

Though he had to admit - sometimes the little wise guy got so infuriating; Dibble would give all his money and throw in his badge to see the look on his face when he threw him for a few days in the slammer.

Just for a few days. Maybe it would teach him some respect for always treating Dibble like a halfwit; a nosy little kid he had to slow down for and placate otherwise he'll get lost. It was Top Cat's way of teasing, and it was _infuriating_.

"Will you help us, sir?" Benny's desperate plea broke through Dibble's inner rant.

"Benny, of course I want to help you guys, but I'll leave it to ya to bring T.C. to his senses. If he doesn't want the police to know anything about it and you don't want me to let him know that I know, how am I supposed ta help?"

Benny's eyes crossed a bit as he tried to process that statement, then simply shrugged: "You'll think'a something, sir. Just so you know, T.C.'s a right soft touch if you know how to approach him," he smiled weakly, crossed his eyes a bit and opened them as far as they'll go. A tear ran down his right cheek, and viola - a flawless, abandoned-kitten face.

Dibble groaned loudly and looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't know you could still do that.."

Now he knew why Top Cat usually gave Benny what he wanted.

"Alright then, Benny," the officer sighed heavily. This is gonna be a long afternoon. "I'll go talk to him. Today. Maybe we can reach an agreement. If ya wanna make yasself scarce at the time.."

"Ya mean it, sir?" Benny's face glowed with hope. "Gosh, sir, you - you're the greatest cop in all of New York, sir! Just like T.C. says, you're the Voice of the Down-D-Down..T-Tro..it doesn't matter! You're the best! I'll wash your car forever, sir! I don't care if T.C. tells me to stop wasting my life, I'll do it just for ya-!"

"Alright already!" But Benny had jumped off his chair and latched onto Dibble's side in a grateful hug.

"Benny? Are ya sure you're alright?"

"The best I've been in a while, sir..the best I've f-felt in-in-" Benny burst into tears, and Dibble felt cold despite himself at the prospect of seeing Top Cat later.

This can't be good.


	4. What T.C. Almost Did

A few hours later, in an alley known as Hoagie's, Dibble was standing next to a particular trash can.

He took a couple deep breaths to organize his thoughts, and rapped the lid twice. "T.C? Hey pal, I need t' talk to ya about somethin'."

When there was not so much as a peep, Dibble tried again. "Come on, it's important. I'm not gonna give ya a hard time about the phone, I promise."

There was nothing for another moment, and then a muffled brushing movement from inside the trash can reached Dibble's ears. He waited as patiently as he could, anxious despite himself.

The can lid was slowly lifted, and Top Cat peered out.

"Golly! Ya look like ya haven't slept in a week!" the cop blurted out. _Looks like we're gonna need your vacationing services again soon, Tony, old pal. _

Top Cat's normally alert gaze was not alert at all; a glaze seemed to have settled in his pale gold eyes. His movements as he maneuvered his upper body over the can edge were uncharacteristically heavy as if his limbs were solely made to move by force of mind alone. Dibble took all this in with concern, and he noticed a few leaves of something poking out of the trashcan.

"What's that under your elbow?"

"Hmm?" the cat looked down to where Dibble was pointing, and the police officer saw the slow look of shock seep into his hazy gaze.

"..Oh, it's nothin'..Officer Dibble, sir. Just a weed that happened to be in..in my house."

"That's not a weed, those are fresh leaves! Give 'em."

"..I'm not even allowed to decorate my own sleeping quarters in peace..?!"

"Just gimme the plant!"

Resisting the urge to curse in front of a citizen, Dibble grabbed at it before Top Cat could think of squashing it or swallowing it whole or whatever crazy thing Dibble could imagine him doing.

But Top Cat was sluggish, and he couldn't even move fast enough to stop the officer. It agitated the policeman's protective instinct even more.

Was T.C. falling sick again..?

Then Dibble took a good look at the plant.

"CATNIP?! Top Cat, what." he shoved the plant back and forth in Top Cat's face "The. Heck. Is. This? EXPLAIN!"

"You know how it is sir...with money being always so short and what little we get...we use to feed ourselves, I had to use this minty medicine by the one true doctor in this world..._Mother Nature_, to clear my blocked nose..the seasonal cold and all-"

"This is not mint! I shoulda known ya'd be usin' substance; ya can't even form a complete sentence! Whaddya take me for, wise guy?"

"An insensitive _blockhead_ of a cop who's adding to a citizen's headache!" snapped Top Cat. He shook his head slowly to get rid of the haze, but only grunted in pain and cradled his head in his paws.

"Listen, T.C. I'm here to apologize for being blind for so long," Dibble started in earnest, hoping the cat would believe his honest desire to help. "I wanna help ya guys find Spook and bring 'im back."

Top Cat's gaze was beginning to clear, and Dibble didn't like the look on his face. It was misplaced - out of character.

"Who told you?"

"Who told me? Everyone knows what happened with Spook, T.C. The cop on the beat not knowing would just make him the biggest idiot in the city, eh?"

The yellow feline continued his staring-down contest. Dibble never thought a character who only barely reached above his belly button could stare him down.

"Top Cat, don't give me that look! You actin' like I double-crossed ya or something.."

"Look, _Dribble_, I have a nasty headache right 'ere between my eyeballs…so if ya don' stop _insulting my intelligence and tell me who told you_, I'm goin' back to bed and leavin' ya out here. You can become the telephone pole's identical twin. No one can tell the difference, anyway."

Yeah, T. C. was in a nasty mood, all right.

Dibble raised his hands, placating, but hardened his voice. "I'm not leavin' until ya tell me everything that's happened, so we can get Spook back."

"Thanks a heap for the generous offer, sir, but we're more than capable of finding our friend on our own."

"Oh, sure pal. That's why ya friend's workin' for a killer, you're doin' drugs, and your pals, deadbeats as ever - are watchin' their boss lose it."

"Leave it alone, Dribble. Drop it."

"No, I ain't droppin' it till I know everything that's happened! That's my job. I find missing persons." And an evil idea struck him. He knew it was a low blow, but well, desperate times called for desperate measures. "I need to know what I'm in for, and if I'm not prepared, and innocent lives are in danger...l won't hesitate to gun anyone who threatens lives."

Like most idiotic ideas, it sounded great inside his head. He thought he was going to love it, the look of shock on Top Cat's face. He didn't. He wished he could suck the words right back into his big mouth. Not only was Top Cat unamused, his face was certain.

It said, _Yes, I know you would. _

"Top Cat, I -!" Dibble backpedaled, floundering with his words, feeling like a complete moron. Where was Benny's face when you needed it? "I swear I didn' mean what ya thought -"

"What _did_ you mean, genius?"

"I just...wanted to make ya tell..?"

"Cute. Very cute, Dribble. Now run along before Sarge shows up and finds ya slackin'...per usual."

Dibble hung his head. He knew a bad time, and he knew how impossible it was to talk to T.C. when he wasn't interested. Maybe if he passed by again later, Top Cat would actually be in the mood to talk more and insult less.

As he turned around and began to walk away, Top Cat's voice, cold and sharp like an ice bolt, reached his ears, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Oh and Dibble…? If you lay a finger on Spook – a _single_ finger, I'll know. And you'll regret the day you ever knew me."

It hurt, how little trust Top Cat had in him even after all these years they've known each other. Dibble had half a mind to drag him out of his trash can and clobber him, but in the end it was disappointment that took over.

"That's just low, T.C. Even for you."

His face must have looked upset enough, because Top Cat hesitated, and he looked almost apologetic. Almost.

"And you threatenin' to gun down my friend was _tres chic_?"

"You know I wouldn't. You know me better than that, and I know you trust me more than you let on because let's face it…" the cop smiled, "if ya didn't, you guys woulda run me off this beat and into the nuthouse a long time ago. Sure, we fight and chase and scream at each other all day, but knowing you guys is like bein' married!" He was hitting on T.C.'s Achilles' heel and he knew it.

"Maybe I'll feel like trustin' ya some more if ya tell me who told ya."

"I told you! No one told me nothin'!"

"Policemen shouldn' lie Dibble, and it really doesn't suit you."

That was probably the best indirect apology Dibble was ever going to get out of the cat today, for the foolish threat from earlier.

"We been through thick and thin for years, and knowin' you guys and havin' to deal with ya taught me a lotta things. Things they don' cover in books. I wouldn' be nearly as patient as I am if I didn' have you boys on my beat. I hate to say this...but I think deep down - _very_ deep down, I care what happens to yous guys."

"Don't go all sappy on me now, Dribble.."

"Me? Who's the drama cat in this neighborhood?!"

"..Hmm...for the sake of bein' literal, you're a walking tree bark - two yards wide."

"Take that back, Top Cat."

"You said it. I merely rephrased it."

"Come out of that trash can and face me on your feet if you're man enough."

"Define man, Chahlie."

"_That's it_! Come out or I'll -!"

"I'm comin' out - I'm comin' out! _Sheesh_! Lower that thing, will ya? Would ya repeat that 'I care about yous guys' bit, again?"

Benny carefully poked his head around the corner. Dibble saw him relax when he found that T.C's back was to him.

"- I know you're there, Benny."

Dibble's mouth dropped open._ Talk about senses_, he thought. Top Cat hadn't even turned around to see who it was. "You told him," it wasn't a question.

The look on Benny's face was just…Dibble felt so bad for the cat who looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him. He looked ready to bolt back where he came from, but in the end, he hung his head in surrender and shuffled over to his leader.

"I'm sorry, T.C..."

"And is Sorry gonna save Spook?! Does Sorry have a plan, hmm?"

"I just-"

"What?" Top Cat turned around to face his friend. "You just what, exactly? Ya thought the police could grow a heart and help rescue your killer-serving pal? What did I tell ya about police and gangs, Benny?"

"But Officer Dibble would neva hurt Spook-"

"_Someone else will_! How many times do I have to tell y - stay _out_ of this, Dibble!"

Benny's face was turning red - an alarming mixture of angry and upset. Dibble would have been fascinated if we wasn't worried this meeting could turn into a cat brawl, and his face the victim of angry claws. "What other choice do we have?! A fat lot of help handling that crazy killer ourselves turned out to be!" Benny exploded. "What, you'll try to shoot him aga-?" Benny clapped his paws to his mouth, horrified.

The cop whirled around to face Top Cat, whose face was frozen, eyes locked on Benny's terrified, guilty expression.

"You tried to shoot him?" Dibble whispered, hardly believing what he just heard.

Top Cat tried making a few quick dollars, lazy bum that he was. He did not go shooting people.

"Benny was just rememberin' somethin' I once said when I was angry. T'was nothin'. Just metaphorical phrasin' on my part, I shoulda known it may be taken the wr-"

"O-Officer Dibble?!" Benny cried in alarm.

Top Cat's feet were dangling in the air, and his collar was crumpled in Dibble's iron hold on his vest.

"Did you kill anyone?" he hissed, his face beet red. Top Cat had never seen him like this before. "Answer me!"

"I.." Dibble never thought he'd ever see a look of real shame cross T.C.'s face.

_I'm never going to forgive you if you did, you stupid, stupid little-_ "Answer me, dammit! Top Cat!" His hand was like a vice on the purple collar, and he shook him hard enough for T.C's head to snap back and forth again.

_I'll wring your scrawny neck myself if you go down that path, Top Cat. You **better** be bluffing- _

"I _didn't_! I didn't, okay! I couldn't do it.." whispered Top Cat, ears flat down against his skull.

The policeman dropped the cat carelessly to the ground, silently thanking God with all his being. T.C. grunted in pain and shot him a half-hearted look of annoyance.

"Don't _ever_ scare me like that, you. Ever. If ya do that again...how does life without a tail sound, T.C?" the policeman's solemn expression was demonic.

"D-_what_?! You wouldn't, you monster!"

"What happened, then?" the cop demanded. "I take it you've faced the gang leader at some point. What happened? And where did Spook stand from it all?"

The cat got off the dusty alley floor, his eyes looking anywhere but at the cop. Dibble's spirits plummeted even further. Morbidly, he wondered if torture is allowed if you will ultimately use the information you got for a good reason.

He started when Top Cat began to speak, "I ran outta options. G.P. isn' someone you make deals with. Spook is being an _idiot_. He doesn' understand that it gets more dangerous with every passing day. One night, I got a gun from a pal o' mine. I intended to shoot G.P., grab Spook and get the hell out; leave the city for a while if we had to, till things cool down. I finally managed t' arrange a meeting with 'im. With G.P. Do you know how impossible that is..?" Top Cat smiled without humor.

"As it was, I turned out to be a goddamn coward. I had everythin' - the perfect opportunity, the perfect shot, the perfect distance where I couldn' possibly miss! And I just couldn' bring myself topull the stupid trigger. I just stood there like a dope with a gun till G.P. turned an' realized what I was doin', and pulled out his throwin' knife."

Benny's paws were gripping his face, and his eyes were large. "Oh, my God, T.C..."

"It was Spook who saved me. He always was the fastest of us, that Spook.." Dibble's heart stung at the look in T.C.'s eyes. "I barely saw him move - I didn' even realize what happened till I found myself plucked off the ground like a girl and the knife flying right past ma left eye. It grazed Spook's right ear bad."

"Oh!" cried Benny in horror. "Did Spook's ear fall off?!"

"No. But it bled. It hurt. And boy, was G.P. _mad_. I still can't believe to this day that I managed to talk 'im into comin' alone. If his gang was with 'im, me'n Spook'd both be playin' Snooker right now in that big alley in the sky...

"And you know what the worst part is, Officer Dibble? This whole mess woulda been over. Spook would be safe and free with us right now if I weren't such. A. Coward!" finished the yellow cat, staring hatefully at the ground. "It's a miracle, that's what it is...G.P. didn't kill 'im for savin' me.."

"T.C, no. No. You did the right thing. Look at me. Top Cat," the cat raised his eyes to meet Dibble's adamant expression. "I know a lot of lesser people who would have pulled that trigger. That was very big of you..not pulling it."

"...That's just not the way things are when ya live on the streets, Officer."

"What matters is doing the right thing, T.C. It doesn't matter where ya come from or where ya live."

Top Cat made a face. "Dib," he said slowly, as of explaining to a child. "What the police says is right don' matter nilch to those who live by the laws of the street."

"Well that doesn' mean anything, now, 'cause I'm on your side. I'm your friend, right? Ya trust me, right?"

"Ya gotta be _way_ more specific than that, Dib," T.C. responded gravely, looking over his shoulder.

"Hey! What's that-" Dibble stopped when he saw the corners of the cat's mouth turn so very slightly upwards. Top Cat was teasing again.

Dibble found himself smiling, as well. He realized that he was actually winning. Top Cat was giving in. It felt great - he never won against him in anything.

"We'll get 'im back, T.C. I promise you on my name and reputation: neither I nor my comrades will hurt Spook."

The momentary rush of victory was over in a flash when Top Cat's head snapped back, his eyes hard, and all humor gone.

"Don't go makin' promises you can't keep!" he snapped, "what'll you do if HE takes a shot at ya, huh?! Pretend t' be a stuffed prize?"

It hadn't occurred to the officer once until that moment that Spook may very well refuse to come with them until his vengeance had been seen through. He was not merely a hostage to be freed; they may have to club him, sack him and drag him back, kicking and screaming.

"..That's what I thought." said Top Cat, his laconic drawl announcing the end of the matter, but Dibble didn't miss it - the note of disappointment.

"I won' harm Spook, T.C. You'll just have to trust me on this. If worse comes to worse, I'll shoot at his leg or somethin', so he can't move."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?! You'll _cripple_ Spook?!"

"No, I won' cripple 'im! I'm just puttin' it out there he might get reckless, if he goes nuts and starts shootin' at people without thinkin'! But he's not gonna shoot anyone T.C., and you know it."

"And of course your force buddies will go along with you?"

"Yes. I'll need all the backup I can get. 'Cause, the things I dug up! This creep G.P. is as dangerous as they come."

"..Well, I don' want anyone else from the police to go with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?! Why n – because they don't care! And neither will Spook. It'll be shooting season!"

"I'll lead the operation, T.C. No one can fire a pebble without me sayin' 'fire'."

"What about self-defense?"

"Nope, not even for self-defense." Dibble knew he wasn't being entirely truthful now, but all his hope hung on Spook not firing. If G.P. or his men decide to play crime movies, the shooting can start for all he cares.

"One thing though, T.C. I couldn' for the life o' me get a hold of a picture of the guy! What's he look like?"

Top Cat stiffened and broke eye contact.

"T.C? Are you alright?" Out the corner of his eye, he saw Benny also look suddenly uncomfortable.

"What's with you two?"

"I don' have a picture of him if that's what you want," Top Cat said, bringing his eyes back to the officer's. "But there's no description that I can give ya. You wouldn' be able to tell it's him and not just any other cat until ya see 'im - face to face."

Dibble decided to be the adult and drop the question – for now, and focus on more pressing details. He opened his mouth to ask another, but the words died when Top Cat's ears perked towards the closest alley entrance. As if someone had blown life right back into his body, the cat whipped his head around and sprang out of his trash can, nose dilated and whiskers straight and taut.

"T.C.?"

Two dark-furred alley cats appeared around the corner, half-carrying half-dragging a third cat with filthy pink fur.

"What in the-?!"

"What the hell is this?" Dibble started at the hiss in the yellow feline's voice.

"Choo-Choo decided to be a hero and tried to join G.P.'s gang to get closer to Spook," the brown cat in a scarf explained, voice hoarse with anger. Fancy-Fancy. Choo-Choo lifted his head to look at his leader with sorrowful, pain-filled eyes.

"Choo-Choo, you _stupid_..! Lay 'im over there, Fancy. Benny, head down to the grocery and get some milk! Brain, get the hot water and blankets! Fancy, dig me a First Aids'! As for you, Choo-Choo, I just wanna pull out your claws one by one for scarin' the h-"

Choo-Choo's distressed wail cut his words short. Brain glared (as intimidatingly as was possible for Brain) at his boss, "Duh, that's mean, Top Cat! G.P.'s boys already did that for ya!"

The blood drained from Top Cat's face. Dibble stared at the orange cat, "You mean..?" Brain nodded sadly.

"If I told you _once_," said Top Cat hoarsely as he stomped past the officer over to the pink feline. Choo-Choo raised his bloodshot eyes sorrowfully. T.C. seemed to deflate. The fur that had stood along his back in his momentary, instinctive panic began to lie back down. His face softened. "I told you a _gazillion_ times..never activate yar brains without me there to make sure you don' kill yourselves."

"I'm sorry, Top Cat..." whispered Choo-Choo hoarsely. His voice was choked and grating.

_As if he had been screaming for some time,_ Dibble thought with a sickened heart.

The cats were back with the delegated items. Fancy sat down to clean Choo-Choo's nasty bruises and cuts while Top Cat and Brain arranged the blankets to make the pink feline more comfortable. None of the physical wounds were deep, but the thin, rosy pupils were filled with a fear that made Dibble's cop instincts demand of him to put the sociopath who did this away for the rest of their pathetic life.

The feeling of safety made way for the pink cat to finally give in to his vulnerability. Choo-Choo turned his face into the warmed fabric and heaved. The hacking coughs that followed made everyone wince.

"I...I was only tryin' to get to Spook," Chooch started forcefully through his burning throat. Tears began trickling down his face, and Top Cat bent over him to massage his injured back. "I thought...if he had one of his pals with'im...maybe we could plan together an' escape. I _know.._I knoweverything you told us about G.P.. I just - the idea got me too hopeful, I guess...T.C, ooww," he sniffed. "You're not a very good masseuse...

"Zip it."

"Sorry, Boss. I...I musta asked the wrong person. I don't remember a lotta things. I guess I blocked out the wors' parts...b-but...no, T.C. don't look at 'em!"

"Hush now, Chooch.." T.C. muttered, "We gotta assess the damages." Dibble leaned over in curiosity.

Some of Choo-Choo's claws were indeed missing; four in all, another two were chipped, and his fingertips were still covered in dried blood Fancy was trying to clean off without causing the cat too much agony.

Maybe it was because he was human, but Dibble didn't feel like he quite understood why the cats were taking the claws issue so seriously. Fancy looked sick. Brain and Benny seemed on the verge of tears, and even Top Cat looked stricken.

"My claws...h-how am I gonna compare to all the cats now? What will my folks back home say.."

"Stop it, Chooch-"

"I'll never be able to look another alley cat in the eye again...maybe I should just let myself be adopted into a home.."

"Stop talking like that, Choo-Choo, ya acting like it's the apocalypse! Maybe I'll think a' somethin' if ya _clam it._" his leader snapped with no real malice.

"Here ya go Chooch, some nice warm milk.," Benny offered. Choo-Choo took the cup and started drinking, silent tears of shame still running down his face.

"If I got a buck for every moment I'm motherin' you, guys..." T.C half-heartedly complained. Dibble hid a smile.

It was a while before Choo-Choo began to look slightly better. Top Cat had coaxed him to sleep and so there he was, curled up around himself on the blue blankets, purring softly. Fancy, Brain and Benny were sent on different errands while the yellow feline sat himself beside his injured friend, deep in thought.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"..You've been like that for nearly an hour now," muttered Dibble. The cop had his back against the alley fence, keeping watch on the neighborhood like a good cop should. The sun was leaving the sky for another night, and the orange-red hues filled the horizon. "What're ya thinkin' about?"

Truth be told, he was still a bit miffed at the cat for shooting down his suggestion from earlier to take Choo-Choo to the hospital. Top Cat had given him the dirtiest look, as if he had been asked to send his friend to the slaughterhouse. Dibble never really knew the extent of T.C's paranoia until that afternoon.

"T.C, are you even-"

"Dibble, is your night vision so bad that even when you're right there on the other side of the fence - so close I can practically smell you, that ya can' see I'm THINKING?"

"..Touchy cat."

"Stuck-up cop."

Dibble whirled around and glared at T.C. over the fence. "No, we're not gonna start nothin' like that again! Listen, T.C., after what happened to Choo-Choo, I can assure ya - I ain't leavin' till ya tell me everythin' you know about G.P. and his gang."

"...when I'm done ponderin'."

"_Fine_."

And even after the moon was high up in the sky, bright and pearly, Dibble still had not left.

"..I know you're waitin' for that miraculous day when ya actually get a promotion, but seriously; get some sleep," Top Cat told him in what Dibble could almost call appreciation.

"_No_. I'm not a slacker cop; I have citizens to protect, because I _want_ to. Not for some title."

Top Cat huffed, as if he didn't believe a word of it, but when he did look back, his expression was subtle but Dibble understood. It was a silent plea, like he was begging Dibble to convince him otherwise.

_I must be getting old..I'm growing too soft for this job._ _Damn you, T.C._

People all over New York debated how this particular cat could be defeated, with a mind like his. Top Cat made sure to keep many things about himself a secret. But Dibble felt that he – no he was now _sure_ he had – hit upon his Achilles heel a long time ago, but that particular weakness was so subtle it had taken him years to notice it. Eagerly bypassed in favor of more interesting practices,_ like threatening to maim, _he thought a bit wistfully.

Kindness seemed to do something to T.C. Though he did it to others, he was terrified of having it done to him.

"So you're gonna tell me?"

The cat rolled his large irises to the heavens in an attempt at nonchalance, but when he turned them again to the officer, Dibble saw a fleeting vulnerability; he saw the very reason why he wanted to be a policeman ever since he was a schoolboy.

His thoughts must have been evident on his face, for Top Cat bristled in wounded pride "Fine, fine already!" he snapped. "Ya nagged it outta me, happy? Made yer pitch for the day? What do ya wanna know next, his license numb_\- what are ya grinnin' like that for?_"

_What a strange, mixed-up cat_, Dibble thought affectionately, and took his time enjoying T.C's furious face. He may never live long enough to see him look this violated again.


	5. The Inside Eye

Once again, Spook's motor mouth was far ahead of his brain.

"You barkin' _mad_, Pops?"

Complete silence. One could hear a pin drop.

"_Idiot_," Monster hissed lowly in Spook's ear.

The yellow cat had been lounging on his 'throne', legs crossed in a manner not unfamiliar to the green feline. The lazing creature had been slowly sliding further and further down his oversized chair till Spook was busier fantasizing about him falling on his own tail than actually listening to what was being said.

Until his daydreaming came screeching to a halt at G.P's last words.

Spook suppressed the icy chill running down his spine when the 'Boss' surveyed him – the 'feisty little henchman' as he was dubbed, with yellow irises that shone from under his blue hat.

"I'm quite proud of myself in how patient I've been with you all this time, _Spook_," drawled the cat in a deceptively calm voice. The tension in the room rose to a palpable level that Monster himself looked slightly uncomfortable. Even the repulsive Saber, who had tagged along with him and Monster, shuffled back as discreetly as he could, like a scared dog.

"I don't_like it_when someone talks back to me," G.P went on calmly by means of explanation. "I don't _like it_ when someone accuses me of being…not _all there_. I don' have no idea why I keep lettin' ya off so easy. I think I actually like ya. Spook…maybe I am 'insane' because I like ya?"

_You _**are **_insane if you really like, think this is an actual conversation,_ sneered Spook, his face betraying nothing.

"Yea, I probably am," the cat went on to himself. "It suits me though, don'tcha think? Anyway, I've wasted enough time over you. I don't weigh the opinion of a nameless alley cat. We execute tomorrow at 9:00."

One Eighty-degree attitude shift. A trademark of G.P, Spook had come to quickly know. The anger he had barely managed to contain only flared up again at the challenging sneer on G.P's face. The bastard was playing him again. He always was. The green cat opened his mouth, to spit what he thought exactly of the crazy murderer and his crazier plot, but one harsh pull at his tail by the large red feline on his left was enough to shut him up with a pained yelp_._

And then G.P. was suddenly in his face. 

_When did he get up?!_ Spook thought as his eyes grew wide and his fur stood on end. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine and hated himself for it - G.P. smelled these things even before he saw them.

_Am I gonna die now..?_

"What is it that you don't like about the plan, you little coward?" hissed the cat. His eyes were sharp and piercing, like daggers - no longer bored. They looked insane.

"Uh-"

A knife was at his throat out of nothing. "_Uh_ is not a word, alley cat."

The cold, unsmooth metal did not do well to make the green cat think his next words carefully. Rather, anger and recklessness carried on relentlessly. _Don't let'im smell your fear. Don't like, give'im what he wants,_ submission.

"Why would you do it, man? Like, you know Top Cat's known all over New York! Did you like, _want_ the police to think it was him who pulled this operation?!"

"I don't see why you care. You work for _me_, remember?" G.P. regarded him from under his single-striped blue hat, "or is there something _else_ you'd like to point out?" the grin was feral.

Spook kept his paws tightly clenched to his sides and swore to himself he'll never allow the other cat to see them shake. He tried to maintain eye contact – a herculean effort.

"Unless you're like, waiting for me to say something, then no. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I'm sure you do. You think it. I see it in your eyes every time you look at me; I see it right _now_. I know…it _is_ interesting, isn't it?"

_Shut up. Just shut up, you monster. I ain't gonna give ya the satisfaction._

"Boss, if I may speak," intercepted Monster, sensing a bloodbath coming in wake of Spook's reckless mouth, but to his surprise, G.P. pulled back the knife from its dangerous position on Spook's neck and sauntered back to his seat. The enormous cat just sighed, much too used to his leader's unpredictable moods. But what really made him start, was Spook's quietly spoken "I'm like repentant, Boss.."

Monster glanced curiously at his subordinate – Spook _never_ apologized for any of the things he said or did ever since he joined the ranks, but G.P. was speaking again as if that whole scene never happened.

And no one dared interrupted G.P. when he spoke. His throws never missed.

"Tell me, Spook, my hot-blooded little henchman. You seem to be used to fighting; has Top Cat ever been sore at any of the other cats in your pretty little neighborhood?"

"I wouldn't know. He like, doesn't tell me nothin' about things like that."

"Hmm."

Worry and fear bubbled up in his stomach. "Why do you wanna know about that, anyway?" he asked, in what he hoped sounded like a merely curious inflection, "Why do Top Cat's personal relationships like, matter in sweepin' Fast Paw and his gang under the rug?"

"No need to clog your pretty little head with my plans," drawled the yellow cat. "It shouldn't matter that much to you, anyway. I thought you said you were used to being told nothing."

The green cat kept his face neutral, but his paw was itching to punch a certain set of teeth.

"I know for a fact that Top Cat is rather….chummy with the policeman on the beat. Smart cat," G.P. laughed. "Always has been – securing stability and protection from other gangs **_and_** other policemen. It's interesting how cats have this mysterious ability to hold sway on humans, isn't it? I even heard that that emotional lug of a cop searched for days when poor Top Kitty went missing a while back…"

"You know about that?"

"I know a whole lot about everything," said G.P. with a grin that could almost pass as innocent. Spook personally thought it looked demented.

Then G.P. looked at Spook carefully for a long minute. His face showed nothing. The green cat forced himself to look right back. _Don't break eye contact, man. Don't like, challenge him either_, he told himself in a mantra.

"You know, Spook? The way you were so…emotional about tomorrow's mission, I decided to spare you the heartache and take you off it –"

Spook's heart siezed. _The bastard! He's -!_

"- I'mma gonna give ya something else to do."

_No no no no nonono-_

"I want ya to bring me that blue marshmallow who's always with Kitty. What was his name – ah yes! Little_ Benjamin_ Ball."

Spook felt like screaming.

"_You_, apparently, are not of much use to Kitten if you don't even know the most basic things about him. He seems to favor your fat friend a lot more."

"It won' work, G.P." the blunt, raspy reply did not sound like him at all. It was the sound of a cat drowning.

"We should get this Benjamin character here and make him an offer," G.P. shifted the conversation to Monster, completely ignoring the green feline. "His roundedness hardly makes him of any use to me except being a big mouth, so he could either help me with the information I need, or I'll find another use for all that extra weight. I mean, New York is full of starving dogs. Then there's Saber."

**Never** had he met a more manipulative bastard. Spook's green eyes burned with rage. Monster placed one large paw on the scruff on his neck in warning.

"Let him be, Monster. He's old enough to know when to keep that big trap closed," said G.P. He surveyed the enraged cat with coldly amused irises. "He's a big cat now, and he gets to make the decision this time. Either get the fat cat here by the time I'm back from the mission, alley cat, or I'll make sure you remember that failing for as long as your nine lives allow you. I have eyes inside Kitty's gang."

"That is complete bullcrap and _you know it_!" Spook exploded without thought, shoving off Monster's paw. "None of them would ever work for you!"

G.P. smiled ominously, "We'll see about that."

"You're lying, man." Spook deadpanned, completely and utterly sure. "You're lying. They would never."

"_You _do."

"You know damn well-!" he forced himself to stay calm. "You know why I joined you, Boss."

"And for it, you turned your back on them."

_I did_**_ not_**_ you scumbag stop twisting my words_ was what almost came out of the green cat's mouth, but he bit on his tongue. His credit with G.P. was thinning - even he was smart enough to know that. Nothing clever came to mind, so he remained hatefully silent.

"We'll be leavin' shortly. I suggest ya get a head start; ya know as well as I do how Top Kitten will put up a fight, lame as it might be."

His head was whirling helplessly. G.P. was trying to overcome him, force him to completely submit. From what he had gathered from Monster and the other guys, he was G.P.'s very personal stress ball, but the gangster's patience - after more than four months, was wearing thin.

He turned and left the room without another word. He managed to take as many steps from the door as he could before he heavily leaned against the light-less wall of the thin hallway, his whole pelt shaking in despair. He could hear the sound of nimble footsteps pass along, but it did not register. It did not matter.

G.P. must have really wanted to know certain things about Top Cat to put up with him that long. The other cats implied that he was never this patient with anyone else. And now he wanted to get his hands on Benny.

Spook closed his eyes. He'd be a fool if he could not put two and two together. He was proving to be useless to G.P., something the latter had not anticipated, it seemed.

And his patience was wearing thin. This mission was G.P's way of sending a very serious message:

_Make yourself useful this one last shot, or I will kill you. Bring in information on Top Cat, or you're finished._

Spook remembered that one time he'd seen G.P. use his favorite knife, and he clapped a paw to his mouth, stomach heaving at the memory.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

"I told you the way things were from the very beginning, Chief," said Monster with a rueful smile. "He never intended to work for you from the beginning. He's just in it for Fast Paw."

"His allegiance to Kitten is so sweet it makes me want to barf," murmured G.P., rubbing his temple. A small smile formed on his mouth "He's an idiot to think it's not so obvious."

Monster hesitated, then asked, "Do you think he's really gonna get the little cat here?"

G.P. gave him a bored look.

"I'll..take that as a no."

"I'm sending Saber and Crookedtoe along to get it done. Cat's a coward; all talk and no action. It'll be a good ending to this lame comic book, turning him into an obedient pet."

"..You're having fun."

"I hadn't had a henchman this rebellious in a long time.." the yellow feline mused. "Y'know those are my favorite toys. But..he _is_ becoming a handful. Way too insubordinate. Not very smart, too.."

"What do you plan to do about it, Chief?"

The cat didn't answer, but the way his fingers ran lovingly over the edge of his treasured, jewel-studded knife was all the answer Monster needed.

"..Call me the nin," ordered G.P. lazily.

"I'm already here," a voice spoke. Monster turned his head in surprise. He hadn't heard anyone approach.

Damn nincats and their weightless grace.

The door was opened a crack, and a nimble figure entered and knelt by the door in respect.

"Is this is the one who's goin' to…?" Monster wondered.

"My Nightlight," purred G.P.

"_Dahling_," the cat purred back.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

Benny was just...so _naiive_ sometimes.

Top Cat remembered one time when they were very little, he had plucked a clueless Benny out of the clutches of two very wrong-looking bulldogs. Benny had gone with them simply because they had bribed him with a pastrami sandwich and a golden name tag.

And then today...it was too close a call, and a painful reminder of past encounters in a big city full of similar freaks.

Being a free city cat comes at a steep price.

The blue cat - safe for now, sat on an old crater, and looked back and forth, back and forth as Top Cat paced the alley furiously. Dibble stood off to the side, un-intruding but very much alert to every movement.

"T.C? Can I go call Ma at least to tell her I'm okay..?"

"Benny. Clam it."

"You can use my phone, Benny," Dibble said kindly and seated himself on a crater. "Just don't take too long."

"Would you like to adopt him, too?" the yellow cat spat crossly as he paced by. Dibble chose to ignore him.

When Benny padded off and out of earshot, Dibble turned to the yellow feline, "Now tell me what the heck happened," he hissed urgently.

"Those gangsters are after Benny now, that's what!" Top Cat hissed. His agitated pacing picked up. "They almost kidnapped him today. And if it weren't for that new girlfriend of Fancy's – Shirley-whatsername, they would'a gotten away with it, too."

"You're gonna put a canyon in the alley if you keep this up," Dibble tried softly to ease the cat's agitation. His tail fur was on end, so the policeman ran a fist along its length as he passed by to smooth it. Amazingly, Top Cat accepted the gesture. "Benny knows they're after him, right? Why you so worried? He ain't a little kid -"

"That's where you're wrong, Dibble. Even a 'little kid' can smell TRAP when he sees one. Benny doesn't notice things like that."

Dibble shook his head skyward. "Who would wanna hurt Benny..?"

"I can think of a couple of wierdos."

"Like who?"

As if on cue, Officer Mahoney turned around the corner, humming happily as he usually did.

"Like him."

"MAHONEY?" shrieked Dibble. The redhead turned his head at the sound of his name. His face broke into a grin and happily he waved, completely oblivious.

"_'Rigato_, Officer Discrete," Top Cat hissed and disappeared into his trashcan.

Dibble stared at the trashcan for a while, more confused by the cat than ever, then started paying attention to the female voice talking to Officer Mahoney and another cop – Manohan, at his side.

It was a girl cat, and when he turned to look he recognized her as Shirley, Fancy's new girlfriend. She seemed like a pretty sophisticated young woman, though. Dibble took note of her neat white pelt, eloquent speech, and intelligent brown eyes. Not that it was his business, be the girl seriously seemed to be from a middle-class home at the very least. He couldn't understand why she would choose a womanizer from the streets like Fancy-Fancy for a boyfriend of all people. However, he could perfectly understand (and laugh) at all the circulating stories in the neighborhood of Fancy's countless attempts to get her attention.

Apparently, a hard-to-get girl is what fit him best. Word has it he's been actually loyal to this one cat ever since they hooked up a few months ago.

"I've been in martial arts ever since I was a kit," Shirley said by means of explanation, blushing a bit. "When I saw those thugs try to take Benny, I had to act. I'm sorry about his dislocated bowels - I honestly am, but I couldn't just stand there and let my _fey-ancee_'s pal be catnapped like that.."

"You did good, Miss," Mahoney said. "An innocent citizen was saved today thanks to you."

"Please, you make me blush, sir.."

"If I didn't know better, I'd call you an angel!" the cop next to Mahoney said with a laugh. "You seem to be in the right places at the wrong time lots of the time! Hey Mahoney, remember that incident with that bank robbery..?"

Dibble zoned out after that. Sadly, he had missed out on all the fun; arrived at the scene after it was all over. Two large cats were on the ground, one out cold and the other begging for an ambulance, heaped on the ground at the construction site with a red-faced, combat-poised Shirley and a scared, immobile Benny. Mahoney and Mano-whatsisname were already there, guns out and cuffs being firmly snapped shut on one cat's wrists while the other was taken into the white ambulance truck.

_"I'm sorry the third cat ran away! I can only handle so much..!"_he remembered Shirley pant over all the passerbys shouting on the street when he had run into the site. Dibble had then walked Benny back to the alley where they were intercepted halfway by a certain furious yellow cat.

An hour had passed and the T.C. was still angry and shaken. Dibble ran a hand over his face tiredly and shook his head to clear it. The sun was setting. Time to head down to the station house to interrogate the crooked cats on G.P. He was sure they worked for him, and he needed every scrap he could lay his hands on. G.P. was proving to be hell difficult to get information on, and Top Cat was stringent on the data-providing no matter how much Dibble tried to ease him into talking.

He turned to leave, but paused when he saw Fancy-Fancy trot hurriedly into the alley, his fur flustered (something the girls loved, it seemed – made him look wilder) and seemingly in a rush. He bee-lined towards T.C.'s trash can and rapped it three times, his signature bell-ringing. His tail swished nervously as he waited for his leader to come out, which he did.

"Hiya, T.C. Um-errr…"

"_..Um-errr_? Say no more, say no more," sighed the yellow cat dramatically. "You gonna ask me for some annoying favor of some sort.."

"Can you watch Bookie and Mindy for just a couple of hours?" Fancy blurted out. "I'll be back by midnight, I swear! Shirley – well, she knows that fancy place in new Jerse and I promised her last time we w-"

"**Hold it** right there, ya yellow page inhaler – who in the heck are those Booey and Minty characters?"

Two small pups poked from around the brown Cat's body. Fancy grinned sheepishly, but Top Cat could see the amusement in his eyes.

"They're Shirley's best friend's kids. She watches out for them is what she told me.." he trailed off at the murderous look on the yellow feline's affronted face.

"Ya askin' t'be punched, Fancy? I'm you leader, not ya baby-sitter! I ain't watchin' no infants! Take them to one of your millions of girls or somethin'..'"

"NO WAY!" Both Dibble and Fancy shouted out at the same time, horrified. Fancy snapped his head back to his leader. "No _way_. Those can't take care of anything! You're the only one I can trust with them, Top Cat,_ please_! I'll be back before midnight, I **promise**!"

"You've been spending way too much time with women in trees..and falling on your head when you leave. What the heck am I supposed to do with these - these-"

"Are you my Daddy?" one puppy wondered aloud.

"Are you dogs _cooky_? I'm a cat. Didn't your mother teach you _anything_?"

"Have you seen Daddy?"

"No, I haven't. Now sit down and stay put."

"Top Cat, can you _really_ be any gentler with the kids?"

"Dibble, can you _really_ tell me what are you _still _doing here?"

"You know what, this is a complete waste of time!" the other puppy - a boy beagle, snapped loudly. He glared at Fancy with accusing brown eyes. "Aunt Shirley said you guys can help us look for our Dad, but obviously all you know is how to dump us somewhere to go look at a woman's _body_." The scarfed cat's mouth dropped open while Top Cat laughed his head off. Dibble facepalmed hopelessly.

The little beagle whirled his head around to the yellow feline "And you're no better! You're just a bum who likes to boss people around."

"Alright, alright. It's decided. I ain't takin' that loudmouth little dog, Fancy. Leave him there in a box by the alley entrance. Maybe someone will adopt him and do us all – Shirley included, a favor."

"Try it, you…you _cat_!"

"Tsk tsk tsk. This kid doesn't know the most basic rules of tact. Didn't your Mama teach you how to speak to your elders, boy?"

It was the girl beagle who spoke up. "No..Mommy was shot by a bad man.." she kept her shy brown irises on the ground.

Dibble knelt down and hugged the beagle girl gently, glaring over her oblivious head at the cat. Top Cat stared back with his own _'Don't you dare blame me for that_' glare.

"Then what about your father? Who do you knee-nibblers live with?"

"Mama's guardians. They told us Daddy's out there somewhere, fighting the bad guys and putting them in jail! He's a _police dog_!" the boy beagle said proudly. "He's gonna take care of the bad guys and then come back. You'll see!"

"Uh-huh.."

The little beagle boy narrowed his eyes at the cat. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Of course I believe ya kid, just like I believe that Santa Claus is real, and the Boogey man really lives in cupboards to scare little children, and that unicorns- _oooff_!"

Courtesy of Dibble's foot to his backside. T.C. turned to glare at the policemen, but Dibble only smiled sweetly and turned his attention back to the offended (and _oh my God, they're tearing up_) pups.

"Leave them, Fancy. T.C. will take care of them," He got back to his feet. "He's adult enough to know it's his **responsibility**," Top Cat glared at him in cold warning. "and he _also_ knows…that I'll be makin' sure he's doin' it right, or -" Dibble promptly slid his finger across his throat at the yellow cat, quickly so that the children wouldn't notice. Top Cat gaped at him. Dibble nodded pointedly, grinned and pretended to pull out a tail and wrap it around his neck like a fur collar. He could practically see T.C. sum up all his willpower not to flash him an obscene gesture.

"Thank you, Officer Dibble!" the brown cat chortled gratefully "And thanks, T.C.! I'll make it up whenever, I promise!" and he was gone.

Dibble left shortly for his last round of the neighborhood, and Top Cat was left to simmer with the delightful task of keeping an eye on the pups. Two very bored pups.

Top Cat quickly learned why people were always warned before they adopted beagles into their homes. The rumors were true – they never shut up.

He laid down across his trash can lid, and made it perfectly clear that he was not listening. He slid his hat down further over his eyes curled into a more comfortable position and prepared to sleep.

"..then the weird man with the curly moustache told me – hey! _Hey, Mister_! Are you listening to me? Don't you know it's rude to sleep when someone is talking to you? I know you're still awake, so stop pretending! Get up get up GET UP **GET UP**!"

"Kid…if you don't go to bed right now and clam up, I'm gonna ground your sorry little butts."

"You're not the boss of us! Who do you think you _are_? I don't wanna to be in this dump in the first place! If it weren't for me promising Auntie Shirley we wouldn't move, I wouldn't step a paw inside this filthy alley you call your 'home'! You're just a bum, aren't you? You just like to boss people around to feel important! If you were a good grown-up, you would have invited us to pizza, like all of Auntie's friends do, ya cheap freak!"

"They probably did it to shut you up," The cat replied easily, enjoying the puppy's dumbfounded expression at his complete disregard for all the insults thrown at him. "Listen to me, boy – this city's not a theme park. Nasty things happen at night. Nasty people…will do nasty things…even to sweet, innocent little howlers like yourselves. They will follow the sound of your tiny, shrill little voiceboxes..and they will have no trouble silencing you to do the sick things that they do. Believe me when I tell you New York's full of those. I've _seen_ them. I know," he looked at them dramatically with eyes that shone blue in the darkening alley. The puppies leaned closer together, looking suddenly scared. T.C. smiled wickedly to himself. Amazing what leaning your head a little to the side will do. The light coming off the bulb shining over the bowling alley's back door reflected off of his large irises, creating just the effect he needed to scare the little runts to sleep and just stop the_chattering_.

A brief silence, and then "Can we come up there with you?"

Top Cat glared at them "Try it and you'll be rubbing your sore little butts for a week."

Bookie muttered something incoherent under his breath, probably a profanity he wouldn't be caught dead uttering by their mother. Top Cat honestly didn't care.

Then out of nowhere, someone howled, long and sad in the distance. Whatever it was, it sent shivers down both pups' spines, and they were immediately clambering up noisily onto the trash can where they curled up next to the cat, eyes wide.

Top Cat rolled his eyes and looked the other way, but he didn't shove them off the lid like he had promised earlier.

They remained in that position until Dibble left for the night, but when the policeman passed by them again on his way out of the alley, he noticed that the cat's tail loosely draped around the puppies.

Sometimes Dibble didn't know whether the years made him understand T.C. more, or less.

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

They could not have been asleep for long. The sky was not the right color of midnight. Top Cat jerked awake when he felt something slink around the alley, so very silent no normal person would notice, but living in alleys gave a cat extra-sharp senses.

He jumped off, grabbed the two puppies roughly and dumped them into his trashcan, slamming the lid shut. He heard Mindy squeal in pain and Bookie swear.

"Hey Mr.! Why d'y -!"

"Get us out or I'll scream!"

"It's _soooo_ dark!"

"Shut **up**!" he growled. Bookie seemed to sense the genuine danger in his tone, and shut up. "Not a peep. _Got it_?"

Top Cat almost wanted to squeeze in a _nice doggy_ jab just to annoy the proud little runt, but a crisp voice spoke in his ear and something cold was pressed against his back.

"I got word from G.P."

That voice. His fur stood on end as it registered.

"He wants to see you. **Now**. You're coming with me."

Despite the situation, a rueful smile stretched his lips and he laughed softly.

"You sent Fancy all the way to New Jersey just to stick a gun in my back, Shirley?"


End file.
